Aftercare
Log Title: Aftercare Characters: Casey Arkeville, Seville Armstrong, Mock Mock, Psyche-Out, Spike Witwicky, Typhoon Location: Autobot City Date: March 25, 2016 TP: Exit Doctor Arkeville TP Summary: Psyche-Out tends to Seville Armstrong after she confronts her doppelgänger in the brig. Category:2016 Category:Logs Category:Exit Doctor Arkeville TP As logged by Psyche-Out - Friday, March 25, 2016, 11:32 PM Brig - Lower Level - Autobot City :Autobot City is a fully functional base, and this is its brig. Autobot troublemakers and Decepticon POWs alike are kept here, ever watched by Autobot City's sentient mind, Metroplex. In addition in built-in security features such as anti-personnel lasers and adjustable forcefields, this brig is always manned by at least two Autobot guards, with more available to watch over VIP guests. Heavily-armored walls and enhanced sensory systems make this brig near impregnable, although it is said where there is a will, there's a way. :"Do come back again, little birdy!" Arkeville calls out to the fleeing Seville. "One bird in the hand is worth two in the brig!" He wiggles the fingers of his metal hand in a little wave. :Outside the cell, meanwhile, Psyche-Out moves to intercept Seville, wanting to make sure she's OK before she just leaves Autobot City upset. "Hey, Seville!" he calls out, walking quickly to match her pace. "Everything alright?" Startled, Seville whips around to face Psyche Out. Once the doors had closed, she sighs, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly "I... I don't know. I didn't think they'd get THAT similar to me... " she remarks, then murmurs "She is me I think... She has the right reasons for what she did, even if she took it a lot further than I would have." Mock Mock meanwhile, watches the other go, and then looks as well to Arkeville, and then back "... That's me. She's not me. /I/ am..." she murmurs simply, and rubs at her head a bit "But... this is confusing. How do you know who you are if someone else is too?" she seemed untroubled by what she did. :Psyche-Out nods sympathetically. "They did find someone who has some of your positive qualities, but still weak enough to twist to evil. You're not her, Seville. G.I. Joe could never compel you to kill people like she did - you're stronger than her, and better than her, Seville. There's a reason she's in there and you're out here." Seville Armstrong leans against the wall for a moment, waiting for her heart to stop racing. Her eyes closed as she recovered "Is she evil? She doesn't... act like it. She thought she was doing the right thing." she remarks, and then rubs her face a moment, smearing blood on it. Then she looks at her hand, staring "... I split my skin with my nails." a little in shock, she just deadpans this. Then a deep, shaky breath and she pulls her sleeves down to tuck into her hands and wipe her chin "I don't know if this was a good idea, but I'm glad its' over with. " :Arkeville turns his attention back to Mock Mock. He smiles wickedly. "That is a pickle. How do you know who you are? How do you know you're not the real Mockingbird, and that it's not the imposter walking around free?" His dark eyes widen as he appears to consider the possibility, stroking his white beard once again with his metal hand. "There can't really be two of you. One of you should be eliminated." Mock Mock paces again in anxiety, rubbing her temples. "... Maybe. Or maybe not... " a pause and she looks back to Arkeville "If it is the Imposter, why am I the one who feels guilty about what I did? And... there's no real way out of here but their way. You just tried to escape and it failed." she had heard about what happened, even if she had missed it. She still looked pale, and shaken. Perhaps something 'broke' in her head at this identity error? :Psyche-Out says quietly, "She might not be evil, but she was swayed to do evil things. You're hurt, Seville. Why don't we go and treat your hand, and maybe sit and talk a bit. I don't want you driving home in this condition. Can I convince you to spend the night in the city?" "I... You wouldn't need to convince me much. Just... not too close to the other Joes if possible. I think I may still get awkward questions." she had become rather sheepish and shy since the imprisonment, but relents to going to get the hand taken care of. "I dont think I've actually seen the City anyways." :Arkeville's smile widens, showing more crooked yellow teeth. "You think I tried to escape, do you? If I wanted to escape, I'd be gone. If I do leave, however, would you accompany me? I could help you with your little identity problem. I know my way around the mind, you know." :Psyche-Out nods. "How about we go up to the Autobot City repair bay and I'll see to your hand, and maybe I can talk to Marissa or Spike about getting you a room away from the other Joes so you can rest and recover." Mock Mock fidgets a little bit, looking torn. Guatamato or SuperMax, or Freedom? She shifted from foot to foot. "Uhm... I don't know. Part of me.. part of me feels I should stand trial for my crimes. The other part is afraid." she finally admits, sitting down on her bunk. "I think I need to think about it." Seville Armstrong nods quietly "A good idea. Thank you. Even if an Autobot was okay with me bunking out in the desert." she moves to follow him up the elevator. :Arkeville nods, trying to evoke the same air of concern that Psyche-Out does. "Of course, of course. You think about it. We can talk more later." He glances at the ceiling. "Although we should be cautious what we say. The walls literally have ears in this place," he says, referring to Metroplex. :Psyche-Out chuckles. "I think we can find something more comfortable than the desert, although if that is your preference I'm sure we can have Dusty set you up with something." He grins. The woman looks up. She didn't even know really where she was. "I'll keep that in mind." Mocks says, falling silent. Repair Bay - Medical Wing - Autobot City :This medlab is carefully maintained by Blizzard, and is therefore usually spotlessly white and clean. Well-stocked medical cabinets line the walls, and tools and spare parts are hung in strategic places. The room is large, even by Autobot City standards, allowing people the size of Skyfire to move around easily. Various tools are available so medics of all shapes and sizes can work on any patient, no matter the differences in scale. Medtables are carefully arranged around the room to handle as many patients as possible; more are in storage in case there is a rush. Usually, there is at least one medic on hand, even if it is only a lowly intern, or the grumpy Lugnut, who seems to always get stuck with the longest shifts. Psyche-Out brings Seville up to the Autobot Repair Bay, to tend to her cut hand before she gets infected. Luckily most of the humans have cleared out by now, allowing Seville to relax away from most of the other Joes. Seville Armstrong walks in with Psyche Out, using her shirt sleeve to stem the blood, although there wasn't that much coming out. She kept close to Psyche Out, perhaps for reassurance, not even noticing how 'big' everything is when she looks up and stops cold at Typhoon. Typhoon looks down as two new humans come into the medbay -- only one of whom she recognizes. "Hey, Psyche-Out!" she waves. "Hello, there! I'm Typhoon. I'm a technician here in Autobot City. Are you OK?" Psyche-Out says calmly, "Hi, Typhoon. Very minor medical emergency -- nothing to worry about, or rise Lifeline from his bed about. I can handle it -- I'm actually a trained doctor as well." "Autobot... City? " repeats Seville, then is shaken out of it "Oh. I just cut myself a little bit... its rather awkward. I'm Mo... Seville Armstrong. " she corrects herself. "I think I'll be okay with a little bit of bandages. " she allows Psyche-Out to guide her, still fixated on Typhoon, though it did give her something to focus on "This is the one in Arizona, no?" Typhoon grins. "Nevada, actually. The Great Basin Desert - the largest U. S. desert, as a matter of fact. Autobot City's bordered by the Sierra Nevada Range on the west and the Rocky Mountains on the east." Ty smiles. "We got plenty of bandages and things. We're set to treat hundreds of human refugees if needed -- the Autobot Ark played that role durin' the Great Flood of 2011." Ty rattles on while Psyche-Out gets the actual bandages and some antiseptic. Seville Armstrong takes a seat on the table for now, nodding as she listens. Her eyes flicker "I remember that. Some places are still cleaning up. " she keeps talking with Typhon, lifting her shirt cuff away to peer at the small slices across her palm. A flinch and she puts the bandage down again "So what kind of technician? " she asks. :Psyche-Out comes back and starts carefully cleaning and treating Seville's small hand wounds while Typhoon talks to her. :Typhoon replies, "I'm a weather technician. I study climate change, and shorter-term meteorology. I also specialize in navigation and geographic information systems. I gather data from all over the world, and synchronize it with Teletraan II's databases here in Autobot City." Ty smiles proudly at her geek cred. Seville Armstrong opens her fingers to allow the tending. Luckily it was just deep skin breaks and not going to cause any permanent damage. "Oh I see. That's quite a long list. What do you do once you have all that data, just predictions or trying to figure out what causes what? " she asks, curiously, and then back to Psyche Out "Thank you for arranging this visit by the way." :Psyche-Out smiles at Seville. "It's my pleasure. Want me to go talk to Marissa or Spike about getting you a place to stay the night, or would you rather I stay here with you?" His manner and voice are very calming, taking the stress out of either choice. :Typhoon grins. "Well, ultimately in the short term we try to use weather forecasts to try to increase the probability of successful missions, and to anticipate natural disasters so we can evacuate who we can and be there to help the rest after the fact. In the long term we'd like to help the Earth forestall permanent negative climate change, before y'all's planet winds up lookin' like Venus on a bad day." Ty grins. Seville Armstrong smiles awkwardly at that, nodding. "I know. There's a growing movement but there's a lot of complications - ow - about it." she rubs the bandage gently a little bit, considering this "You... you can go. I think I'll be okay. Typhoon isn't in a hurry is she? " she asks, looking up at the transformer. Typhoon grins. "I'm in no hurry." She looks at Psyche-Out. "I'll keep her company. You go." She smiles. "OK. I'll be right back." Psyche-Out takes off, with a brisk walk so as not to leave Seville alone too long. Human Quarters - Residential Complex - Autobot City Marissa is talking to Spike and sharing a beer with her laptop open in front of her. Spike takes another sip of beer. "For the 'bots, it's finding that right balance of interfering, but not 'taking over' and 'solving' human problems." Psyche-Out sticks his blonde head into the human quarters and looks around, smiling as he spots the off-duty Marissa and Spike. "Just the two people I was looking for!" he exclaims, and makes a beeline for the two EDC chiefs. Spike looks on curiously, "Oh?" Marissa smiles. "Hey, Psyche-Out." She looks at Spike. "Have the two of you been introduced?" Spike looks at Psyche-Out and shakes his head slowly. He gets up and extends a hand. "Spike Witwicky." He looks back at Marissa, then at Psyche-Out. "Psych-Out? So, I'm guessing you must be in the... psychological warfare division?" Psyche-Out grins, extending his own hand, and shaking Spike's with just the right amount of pressure and strength to exude confidence without coming across as overly aggressive. "Precisely! Although I do provide some social services as well, which is what brings me here. I have a somewhat delicate former Joe under my care right now, and she really should spend the night before going back home. I was wondering if there was a place she could spend the night away from the other Joes - she feels a little awkward with the rest of us right now." :Marissa smiles at looks at Spike. "That's your division more than mine - I'm still trying to find places for all the Joes we have here already!" She finishes her beer and starts shutting down her laptop - it's getting a little too late to get anything else done. Spike gives a 'what do I do?' look at Marissa. "Uh...sure." He pulls up a list of open rooms. "We have a few diplomatic suites that are available..." He brings up a schematic of the city on his tablet, and points to where they are - in a scenic region, near the radio towers. "It's pretty isolated right now. Is it just for the night?" Spike looks at his watch, and realizes he has to be on a flight to Cybertron tomorrow morning. "Shit..." He looks at Psych-Out and regains his 'professionalism'. "Will that be OK?" Psyche-Out smiles reassuringly. "That would be perfect. And just for the night, yes. Thanks a lot, Spike -- I really appreciate it." Late as it is, Psyche-Out's manner is calming and relaxing, and he reminds Spike a little of Crosscut. Spike nods and says "Does she require any special accommodations?" Psyche-Out says, "No, although she's a little rattled -- one of our prisoners posed as her and murdered a few of the Joes -- so many nothing close to the brig." Spike 's jaw gapes slightly, "Oh my god," he says with concern. He nods. "OK... I'll set something up before I crash tonight. And I'll make sure that she'll be able to reach anyone if she needs anything." He looks at Psyche-Out, "Who from the Joes should be the primary contact?" Psyche-Out says, "Make it me, for now. I'll go get her and bring her to her room -- I don't mean to keep you up." Marissa says, "Thanks, Psyche-Out. We'll make sure she's OK." Spike nods, "It'll be done." Spike looks at Marissa, and Psych-Out. "Guess I'll get a room ready." He nods to Marissa. "We'll work something out." Psyche-Out makes a note of the area Spike pointed out on the datapad, and goes to bring Seville to her room, waving good night to the members of the EDC.